


Tolerating Chaos

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-27
Updated: 2010-08-27
Packaged: 2017-10-11 06:55:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur likes to be prepared. He knew everything there was to know about this process, knew what to expect from Ariadne's pregnancy. Living through it was a completely different thing.</p><p>For the inception_kink meme prompt: <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/7339.html?thread=11126955#t11126955">Arthur holds their daughter for the first time.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Tolerating Chaos

Ariadne eased backward onto the couch, distended belly in front of her. She had her hair tied up in a ponytail high above her head, and her feet stretched out in front of her. She rested her hands over her belly, feeling the pressure beneath her skin that was her sleeping daughter. "You," she said, rubbing her belly slightly, "need to come _out."_

Arthur handed her a lemonade with a smile. "It's only a day past your due date."

"I'm carrying thirty extra pounds! I'm huge and tired and cranky!" She took the lemonade from him gracelessly. "Thanks."

"Well, the doctor said that's really good. Most of his patients gained fifty." Ariadne shot him a sour look. "You still look beautiful, honey," he told her dutifully. And for the most part, it was true. She was all belly, with no swelling in her hands and very little in her feet. She had a few freckles on her face and arms, but otherwise didn't seem to have had too many changes in her body. She was extremely sensitive to the touch, which had been lots of fun until a week ago. She had started cramping after sex, but there had been no labor pains or signs of delivery. Ariadne was most upset by the fact that she was tired and listless, that she hadn't been able to go under with the rest of the team for the past nine months and that all of her designs were only on paper. She liked being an integral part of the team, and she had felt like an innocent bystander now. It had been better when she could take walks or be active during the day, but now she watched over the PASIV, watched TV or stayed on the computer. Walking more than two blocks left her winded. And cranky.

Ariadne put the lemonade glass down on the end table beside the couch. She frowned and rubbed her stomach. "Maybe I'm still hungry? My stomach feels funny."

"Like what? The linguine was fine for lunch."

Ariadne seemed less tense after a moment. She turned to Arthur with her brows knit in thought. "I think that was a contraction."

Arthur blinked. "Like, she's coming _now_ contraction?"

"I think so."

They both looked at her stomach, then back up at her. While it had felt real before, with all of the doctor's visits, this was it. They were going to be parents.

Well, not immediately. Forty-two minutes later precisely (because Arthur had a stopwatch and was keeping track) there was another contraction. Frustrated, Ariadne began to walk around their apartment in slow circles, rubbing her lower back. The next one came in thirty-six minutes. Then thirty. Then twenty-six.

"I think we need to call the doctor," Arthur announced when the contractions were twenty minutes apart. "When were we supposed to go to the hospital again?"

Ariadne wanted to snort at the look of anxiety that crossed Arthur's face. He could be very calm and in control, and liked being prepared. He had read all the books, gone to every single appointment, seen every sonogram and lab test. He knew as well as she did what they were supposed to do next. This was Arthur freaking out on the inside, even if he still looked relatively calm on the outside.

If anything, that comforted Ariadne. Some things had to stay the same, otherwise she would think she was in a dream.

They left for the hospital when the contractions hit ten minutes apart. They were down to five minutes apart when Ariadne was admitted to the labor and delivery floor of the hospital. The admitting nurse gave him and Ariadne matching bracelets, and she was tucked into a room to await her doctor's arrival.

A calm settled over Ariadne then. This was happening. This was real. She was waiting for her doctor and for the epidural and she was crushing Arthur's hand within her fist with every contraction because it hurt, and even in dreams she had never hurt this much. This _had_ to be real. She dozed off fitfully at one point, and Arthur stayed by her side throughout the entire process. He didn't always say anything, but he kept his hands in hers to steady her, and sometimes he just encouraged her to keep going. There was anxiety in his eyes, if not the tight set of his mouth. She was calm, but inside he was a roiling mess. She was in pain, serious pain, and it was his fault as much as hers. There was nothing he could do to take it away, not like in the dreams, and there was no way he could control the situation. He had to give up even the pretense of control; even the doctors couldn't predict how long the labor would be or if it would continue to progress as naturally as it was right now.

He hated uncertainty. He hated not knowing what happened next. He hated worrying about what the next moment would bring.

Arthur clutched Ariadne's hand desperately when she began pushing, when the nurses and doctor coached her through the breathing and the pushing and kept encouraging her to continue even when she wanted to lie back in exhaustion. "You're doing fine," he whispered in her ear. "Just a little more, Ariadne," he pleaded. "You can rest in a little while."

"One more!" the doctor crowed. "I see the head." A push and a twist, then their daughter was born in a rush of blood and fluid, crying out for suddenly being so cold.

The nurses whisked their daughter under a lamp to do their thing after giving them the briefest of glances. All Arthur had seen were screwed tight eyes, tiny curled limbs and a shock of dark hair on top of a ruddy, screaming head. He was sure that Ariadne had seen even less. He kept hold of Ariadne's hand and anxiously tracked what the nurses were doing. He should have looked into this part. He should have read ahead to see what it was that doctors and nurses did right after birth. The obstetrician was delivering the afterbirth. That was normal, wasn't it? And Ariadne was exhausted and nearly in tears. The nurses were weighing and measuring the baby, dropping something in her eyes and rubbing her with towels. She was making little hiccuping sounds, little squeaks of protest.

"That's her, isn't it?" Ariadne asked, looking at Arthur with a half smile on her face. Her eyes were shimmering. "That's her?"

"Yeah. That's her."

The nurse came back with the baby, swaddled tightly in a blanket with a wool cap on her head. She was laid on Ariadne's chest so that she could try to breast feed right away. Their daughter wasn't quite interested, but gave it a try. Ariadne started laughing as if she wouldn't ever stop, overwhelmed with the way their daughter looked and moved. She looked up at Arthur with that same shining grin. "She's so beautiful. Do you want to hold her?"

_Yes. No. What the hell do I know about babies? What was I thinking?!_

"Yeah," Arthur said, his voice rough with emotion. He held his arms out and carefully took the baby from Ariadne. The nurses were saying something about getting a room in maternity to recover in, that Ariadne would need her rest. He didn't hear those things.

He looked down into the face of his daughter. She had tiny eyes scrunched up tight, and a tiny little nose that had to be Ariadne's. It was his mouth on the girl's face, his chin. He had seen a tiny little hand poking out from the blankets, and he reached in with a finger to look for it. She grasped it tightly the instant she felt his finger, and her eyes opened. They were a clear baby blue, and looked just like Ariadne's. Hell, even that expression of focus and concentration was Ariadne's. Something tightened in Arthur's chest, and nothing else mattered. It didn't matter that he didn't know what room they would be moved to, who was going to call everyone on the team, who would coordinate the flights and schedules for family members to arrive and visit and help out with the baby.

He looked up at Ariadne, a goofy grin on his face. He looked down at their daughter with that same grin. "Hey, Angelina. I'm your daddy. We're going to get along just fine."

She yawned and settled in to sleep, as if she agreed with that assessment. For once, uncertainty seemed tolerable.

The End.


End file.
